Absolution
by Laura Schiller
Summary: Enrico goes to visit Sandro one last time. "Excuse me for intruding on your sacred space, 'Brother'. Is it a crime to want to say goodbye to my young apprentice?"


Absolution

By Laura Schiller

Based on: Stravaganza

Copyright: Mary Hoffman

Sandro was pulling weeds in Brother Tullio's kitchen garden when he noticed the small, bedraggled figure in the blue cloak slouching down the path. He straightened up and threw off his hood, feeling apprehensive; what was his sleazy former master doing here?

"Hello there, Sparrow," said the Eel, waving sheepishly as soon as he came within earshot.

"What are you doing here?" Sandro replied, still on his guard. "I told you I won't be spying for you any - "

Enrico cut him off with a wave of his hand. "I know," he said sharply. "Pardon me for intruding on your sacred space, _Brother _Sandro. Is it a crime to want to say goodbye to my young apprentice?"

Sandro, taking a closer look at the older man, felt a stab of mixed revulsion and concern. He was unshaven, chalk white, hollow-eyed and filthier than ever; he looked, and smelled, like he'd just rolled out of bed after a night of hard drinking.

"What happened to you?" he blurted out. Then, remembering what Sulien, Tino and the others had said, everything clicked. "You poisoned the foils for the duel, didn't you? And then you switched them so the Duke would die, and now you're on the run?"

Enrico grinned. "Very astute, Sparrow. I can see I've taught you well."

Sandro, whose curiosity had been a defining factor for his becoming first a spy and then a novice, could not resist asking: "Why did you do it? Kill the Duke, I mean?"

Enrico rubbed his bloodshot eyes with one hand, looking about ten years older than the energetic man Sandro had known. "Well, long story short...I thought I'd killed the Duchessa Silvia, but instead I killed the woman I loved. And it was all fault of the Chimici."

The whole sordid tale poured out like prosecco which had been bottled up too long. Sandro was too stunned to interrupt – not because Enrico had done murder, which he'd already guessed, but because he had once loved a woman and been loved in return.

_It just goes to show...like Brother Sulien says, there's a bit of good in everyone._

"You spoiled your chances with the di Chimici?" Sandro inquired, just to make sure his ears were not deceiving him. "On purpose? Even though they were the richest, most powerful patrons you ever had?"

Enrico shrugged, looking faintly embarrassed. "I wasn't thinking straight," he muttered.

"You must have loved her very much."

After an awkward pause, Enrico nodded. "She was always too good for the likes of me, Giuliana was," he said. "She had a family, you see, to bring her up right. Sometimes I wish..." His eyes roamed over the neat rows of greenery under the golden sun behind them. "I wish someone had picked me up off the streets when I was your age and landed me in a place like this."

"It's not too late. you know..." Sandro said hesitantly, feeling silly. How does a novice friar go about giving spiritual advice to a murderer and spy?

"Converting sinners already, are we?" Enrico grinned, looking a bit more like his usual self. "Better wait for that until you're higher than my knee."

Sandro had to laugh.

"Thank you, Enrico," he finally said. "For...picking me up off the streets."

If Enrico hadn't fed him, paid for his lodgings, and employed him to investigate Saint-Mary-among-the-Vines, Sandro would not be here now. He wouldn't have found his family – a divine Father and Mother and a whole monastery of Brothers.

Sandro had seen Enrico smirk, leer and cackle many times when he had found a juicy bit of information, but never had he seen a genuine, joyful smile on his face – until now.

Enrico stepped forward and hugged Sandro, who was too baffled even to mind the smell.

"You're a good boy, Sparrow," he said. "This place suits you."

He stepped back and wrapped his cloak around him as if for warmth, though it was a sunny spring morning. "Anyway," he said, pointedly casual, "If you're ever in Padavia, look me up."

Sandro nodded and held up his hand in farewell, without noticing how similar it looked to a saint's blessing. Watching Enrico's cloak billow behind him as he stumbled down the path, Sandro whispered a prayer in his mind for the man who had been like a father to him.


End file.
